Lovebitten
by LunaCanislupus
Summary: The one where Derek gets bitten by a lovebug and Stiles is the first person he lays eyes on. Hilarity ensues.


So I was sort of having a bad day and this little plot bunny was roaming freely so I though I'd capture it and roast it on the open fire that is the teen wolf fandom :D (see that's funny because I'm a vegetarian) Anyway, this is sort of canonish based after the end of season two only there's no alpha pack on the scene. So watch out for spoilers.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Lovebitten.**

The first thing that Stiles thinks when Derek turns to look at him, jaw going slack, eyes widening as his hand goes up to slap automatically against the skin of his neck in an attempt to swat the bug that's just bitten him is that it has to be some kind of cosmic joke.

And then he sees the little fist sized vampire bug buzzing away, the metallic sheen of its wings rippling a rainbow of colours in the fading sunlight and the second thing he thinks is holy shit that weird ass vampire bug is _getting away._

And point to the supernatural bug for getting the drop on a supposedly competent, terrifyingly unemotionally available big, freaking alpha werewolf. God, he's well aware of the underdog scenario and giving the little guy a chance every once in a while but this is just ridiculous. And embarrassing. Because he's pretty sure Derek just got KO'd by an insect. A rainbow insect. Somebody's masculinity has to be hurting right about now.

But then Derek's looking at him and his eyes are widening if possible, even further like Stiles had just suddenly developed the skill to transform into a drag queen in the blink of an eye and sing cheesy show tunes with lipstick smothered pouty lips.

It's probably about then when Stiles shakes his fist at the hastily retreating LGBT supporter bug as it lets its rainbow flag exoskeleton fly and he distantly wonders if his _this isn't over vampire bug _fist shake can be seen as some form of homophobic racism.

But then the bug doesn't reappear for more neck biting so he figures it doesn't.

Only now Derek's striding towards him and things aren't looking good for Stiles who volunteered his services to investigate this current disturbance in the force purely out of the goodness of his heart since Scott and Isaac were too goddamn busy working their healing touches on all the animals in Deaton's clinic.

And nobody had seen Boyd or Erica for several days now. But they're not meant to talk about that. At least that's what Derek's immediate silence and stormy expression said so.

He takes two precautionary steps back because Derek is looking at him in this really creepy way and not in the I'm going to murder you way. In fact it's not an expression he's ever seen on his face before and he realises that's probably what's thrown him for a second.

Because Derek has only about five expressions in his arsenal of emotional face manoeuvres and this is sadly not one of them. Stiles instantly assures himself that this is a bad sign.

And unless he's been bitten by a radioactive bumblebee that incurs blindness in the last five seconds he's pretty sure Derek is smiling. At him. But like not a you're so irritating I'm picturing dragging my claws through your intestines smile but an actual genuine sort of smile.

Like a the clouds have just parted and rays of sunlight are shining down on your face kind of smile.

And is it his imagination or does this random unexpected unveiling of a new emotional face manoeuvre seem kind of goofy? But like a softer, affectionate sort of goofy?

And oh my God the rainbow bug has broken Derek Hale.

Dammit, why can't Scott and Isaac use their free time as ridiculously single bachelors to rid the world of LGBT supportive bugs that break alpha's instead of overwhelming the Beacon Hills population with more wild animals because of their healin' touch?

And then because apparently goofy Derek isn't enough of a parallel universe nightmare moment he crowds all up in Stiles' space cupping his jaw with his warm hands and cradling his face.

He'd probably still be shitting himself by now if Derek still wasn't smiling. Stiles just lets out a strangled sound because this is vastly different from any- being thrown against hard surfaces that will bruise him- situation that Derek usually treats him to and he finds this freaks him out a lot more.

Because Derek is looking deeply into face and Stiles will swear until his dying day that he's giving him goo goo eyes.

And this is very not good.

And then Derek sort of gives him this stupid, goofy grin. "Stiles," he says still holding his face and standing way too close for comfort. His voice is still full of his usual gruffness so only the face caressing thing is out of character. He even sounds like his abnormally pissed off self.

"You're so pretty."

And yep, Stiles can safely say that the LGBT community will be getting a snarky and highly worded letter in the mail as soon as he can get the big, hulking alpha to stop nuzzling his cheek.

* * *

He doesn't get Derek to stop nuzzling his cheek. Unfortunately because his pants have already tightened at the sensation of stubble burn against his skin, a clear sign that he likes it and to make the situation better the alpha seems to sense that too and starts nuzzling him harder.

By the time Stiles convinces what can only be a mentally warped Derek into his jeep and to keep his goddamn hands to himself- because his pants are still tight thank you- they've wasted twenty minutes.

And he just knows that the totally unassuming but somehow menacing bug has already painted Beacon Hills freaking rainbow. He speeds to Deaton's clinic only a little over the speed limit, his foot jerking on the accelerator when Derek's hand slides unexpectedly across his thigh.

By the time he stumbles inside his face is flushed because apparently brain malfunctioning Derek is very handsy and doesn't understand personal boundaries. The alpha trails after him like a puppy.

"Deaton?" he calls, "Scott? I broke Derek."

Scott and Isaac come out first raised eyebrows and curious expressions on their faces. "Well I guess I didn't," he admits. "But that bug did when it bit him and possibly _laid eggs in his brain _or something."

"Which bug?" Deaton asks as he enters the reception room.

Derek chooses that moment to wrap his arms around Stiles from behind and start nuzzling him all over again. So um, yeah. Scott drops whatever he was holding which turns out to be his cell phone and Isaac's eyebrows go _way _up. Deaton's eyes narrow clinically.

"Stiles," Derek purrs out and he sighs, realises its useless to struggle and goes limp in his arms because he couldn't seem to figure out why Derek was suddenly faulty.

"I told you he's broken," he says feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "You don't even want to know what areas of Stilinski goodness he tried to touch on the way here."

Scott lets out a sound between a whine and a groan and Stiles attempts to shrug his shoulders but it's a lot harder to do when Derek's chin is resting against it, the heat from his body pressed against his back and making him shift uncomfortably.

Deaton steps forward and attempts to untangle them from each other which is a lot harder than it looks when Derek is so wrapped around him like he possesses multiple limbs. It takes a little longer than he would like but Stiles lets out a sigh of relief and tries to get his heart beating normally again when they unglue from each other.

Derek's expression only tightens a little, confused as to why Deaton has taken away his newly appointed cuddly buddy. Stiles resents that. He is certainly not cuddly. Or pretty. He is fully of manly ruggedness and masculinity and does not deserve to be goo goo eyed by broken alphas.

"I think I might know what this is." Deaton examines Derek closely looking into his face with interest. All Stiles can see are his goo goo eyes, the goo goo eyes that Derek seems to have reserved for him.

This was so not the plan for his summer break. "Can you describe the nature of this bug?"

Stiles raises a hand and clenches it into a fist. "It was about this big and its exoskeleton was like a metallic rainbow. It didn't look very normal, more not normal when it bit him on the neck."

"On the neck?" Deaton leans forward to inspect Derek's neck with curiosity. And then he frowns. He pulls away abruptly and disappears into the backroom for several minutes leaving Derek to latch himself onto Stiles again much to everyone's growing sense of awkwardness.

Because the only time anybody sees Derek touching people is when he's ripping out throats so this seems a little too unnatural. Deaton returns with a book ignoring Derek whose hands keep drifting down into dangerous territory right in front of Stiles' best friend and Isaac even with Stiles subtly attempting to pull away.

Isaac at least has the tact to avert his eyes but Scott just kind of stares into the sudden hazard area as if he can burn a hole through Derek's wandering hands with the power of his mind alone.

Which is extremely unlikely seeing as Scott's mind usually isn't that powerful to begin with.

"Ah," Deaton says finding the page he was looking for. "Did it look like this?"

Stiles barely gets a glance before Derek's mouthing at his neck, hot tongue sliding across his sensitive skin.

"Y-yes," he squeaks pushing back at Derek's forehead to make him stop. The alpha doesn't seem to get the message though and continues as if it's a normal thing to start feeling up teenagers and licking them in strange places right in front of his pack and a strangely unconcerned veterinarian.

"Then I think we have a problem," Deaton says shutting the book with a snap.

Stiles is frantically attempting to escape Derek's clutches now as the alpha throws a muscled thigh across his hip locking him in place. And nobody makes any move to assist him because apparently its entertaining to watch twenty something year olds jump the bones of minors at veterinary clinics. He really enjoys having so much support from his friends.

"You think?" he demands, pushing ineffectually at the overly affectionate alpha.

Deaton opens the book to show them the picture again and the words written in big letters below it.

"Derek's been bitten by a lovebug."

Stiles jaw drops forgetting about Derek for a moment as he stares at Scott's and Isaac's equally shocked expressions. Everyone goes unnaturally silent as they exchange glances with one other and Derek seizes the opportunity to finally get his hand down Stiles' pants.

* * *

Derek didn't seem to mind that Stiles had elbowed him in the throat and was perfectly happy to sit in the passenger seat of his jeep whilst Stiles drove them both back into town.

Scott and Isaac had gone back to the place where Derek had been bitten in case they could find a trail or something with their extrasensory werewolf powers. And to lead them to the reason Stiles was becoming seriously familiar with the terms sexual harassment.

Not that Stiles wasn't willing. Because he'd be lying if he said that just looking at Derek didn't start a party in his pants. But he's been working on keeping that little fact on the down low only Derek's attentions sort of washed that plan down the drain.

Lovebugs. Stiles would have laughed at Deaton's analysis only Derek had already been crossing some serious boundaries and he'd been too distracted with protecting his virtue to really appreciate the ridiculousness of it.

As far as he'd been concerned being bitten by a lovebug had been a funny quip to insult and embarrass overly affectionate people namely Scott. He'd never in a million years have believed they'd be so unlucky for them to actually exist. Not to mention have one making Beacon Hills its rainbow, love infested playground.

Ugh. Derek's wandering hands found their way to the back of his neck again, gripping softly, reassuringly and Stiles shuddered. Because that was no playing fair at all.

"Stiles." Derek hadn't spoken much since his lovebite from the aformentioned lovebug and mostly it had been Stiles' name on endless repeat. Which was sort of kinky and hot and not at all helping him think clearly about the fact that Derek had been bitten by a freaking lovebug.

Deaton wasn't sure what the affects the bite would have on werewolves let alone an alpha but first off they needed to find that stupid lovebug and squish- _capture _it.

Though Stiles didn't doubt his boot could do a better job.

Deaton hadn't dealt with a lovebug before and he didn't know if Derek's unusually affectionate and possible sexual symptoms were a permanent thing or would wear off eventually.

Stiles although flattered by the sudden attention sort of wanted it to wear off and for Derek to never remember the hardness that had welcomed him when he'd finally got his hands down Stiles' pants.

Because yes, the sudden attention had given him a total werewolf induced boner and that was embarrassing. Like it hadn't been worse enough that three other people had witnessed it as well. And he was pretty sure Scott was still traumatised. Well whatever it's not like anybody had known of the benefits of lovebugs until today.

Stiles was still kind of freaking out about it actually. Because how the hell was he meant to explain this to his dad? Deaton suspected being bitten formed immediate attachments to the person the lovebug victim first laid eyes on.

And of course being the only one stupid enough to follow a paranoid alpha's lead into the woods when he should have been in his room being as unproductive as the summer allowed, Stiles had been the first one Derek had laid eyes on. Which meant Derek thought it was perfectly okay to shove his hands down Stiles' pants. And follow him around everywhere for more pants invasions.

He needed to think about this. Needed to get away from Derek for a bit but Deaton only shook his head and told him it didn't matter where he went because the alpha would follow.

Like that didn't sound like the most unromantic and creepy stalkerish freaking thing to hear ever. Stiles was so going to smoosh that bug the next time he saw it.

Only it became very clear that it had already been pretty busy when he drove past the main road and spotted Greenberg attempting to wrap his arms around Coach Finstock and not in a normal non lovebitten way judging from Coach's horrified expression.

Stiles half laughed and half swerved out of oncoming traffic when he nearly caused a head on collision distracted by watching the bizarre sight. And then even weirder he spotted Danny making out with a girl on the sidewalk.

A girl. Jesus. This lovebug had screwed everybody over. And it was still nowhere in sight. Stiles didn't even want to see what other relationship damages it was creating. The disturbing image of Coach Finstock and Greenberg was enough to destroy his faith in the sanctity of love for a lifetime. God where the hell was this lovebug?

And dammit would Derek quit trying to stick his hand down his pants already?

* * *

It turns out it didn't matter what his dad thought of Derek being all loved up on him because he wasn't home from the station yet when he walked inside, the lovebitten Derek already plastered against his back.

And apparently having a wall of man muscle cemented to his back was not the solution to his too tight pants problem and Stiles struggles to extract himself as he makes his way up to his bedroom.

He barely manages to free himself pushing Derek in the direction of his bed and as far away from him as possible before taking his seat in front of his computer. And just because Deaton was already hard at work poring over his own magical textbooks doesn't mean Stiles can't get a couple hours of mindless research into destroying the lovebug and never speaking of Derek or goo goo eyes ever again.

Only Derek comes up behind him and starts rubbing against him again and Stiles is trying not to pretend like this is the most action he's ever gotten in his life, or just how much he's reacting to it.

Because he doesn't know if normal not love crazy Derek is inside there somewhere watching the whole thing and God wasn't this embarrassing enough?

He lets out a particularly needy sound when Derek's lips find their way between the junction of his neck and ear, the stubble scraping across his flesh. He flushes bright red, ignoring the bulge in his jeans and pushes the eager alpha away from him.

And he struggles not to hyperventilate.

* * *

After a couple of hours of Stiles tug-a-war with Derek who still seems to think its cool to bad touch Stiles in a very, very good touch kind of way- which is going to get him killed when the alpha's back to normal- he finds something interesting.

Only he's already distracted by the alpha's big hands working their way under his shirt and this is not getting him any alpha brownie points at all.

The lovebug is breeding. Only not yet because apparently the pheromones given off by humans bitten by a lovebug is the most efficient mating call to any available female lovebugs in the area. Isn't that super duper fantastic.

And the more people the lovebug bites the stronger the call. Which means more people in Beacon Hills are going to start getting goo goo eyed. And once it lures in a lady friend Stiles is pretty sure they're screwed considering the many graphic and colourful pictures of the resulting lovebug swarm.

From what he's read the lovey dovey feelings given off by the bite are supposed to wear off in about twenty four hours depending on the person's immune systems. So the humans should be okay.

Werewolves on the other hand…

He's pretty sure that's a different story altogether. Only there's basically zero information about the effects of a lovebug bite on a werewolf. But he knows any more of them getting bitten is a bad idea.

Because one loved up alpha is enough and Stiles is pretty sure he can't handle any more affection from the rest of the pack.

So he pulls out his cell phone and calls Scott. Who doesn't answer. Figures. He sighs and calls again muttering out a few choice curses, banishing Scott to the fiery pits of hell for being so damn unreliable.

And then suddenly Derek's in his lap, straddling his thighs and Stiles would've fallen out of the chair if he hadn't been already pinned down.

"Hey! hey!" he cries out. "Hands off the merchandise wolfy!"

Loved up Derek seems to get the message and just smiles down at him like he's the most perfect thing in the universe and Stiles has to swallow heavily under that look.

And then Scott finally answers his damn phone.

"Isaac," Scott says and Stiles sighs pushing ineffectually at Derek's chest.

"Not Isaac, Scott." He pushes at Derek again, pointlessly. "Stiles, best friend Stiles? Whatever. Listen man you've got to make sure the lovebug doesn't-"

"Isaac," Scott repeats again and Stiles raises an eyebrow in confusion until he hears the scuffle in the background and Isaac huff out a frustrated sound.

Oh no. He recognises the gushy, dreamy tone of his voice usually reserved for conversations about Allison and how much he misses her since their mutual break up.

God. Scott did you have to be the worst werewolf in the history of werewolves?

Stiles sighs and pinches his nose together as he hears Isaac wrestle the cell phone from Scott's grip.

"Seriously Scott?" Isaac demands, closer to the speaker than before and Stiles hears the sound of Scott whining, ever the pining puppy dog.

He finally gets possession of the cell phone. "Hey Stiles, so yeah Scott got bitten by the lovebug before it took off again and I can't really get a scent on it."

"What's the scent?" he asks pushing at Derek's chest again but the alpha seems pretty content to sit there in his lap and Stiles has to struggle from shifting the very obvious bulge away from any alpha contact.

He takes a couple shallow breaths.

"It uh," Isaac hesitates and sounds a little embarrassed. "It smells like marshmallows."

Stiles wants to throw the cell phone across the room and give up the lovebug destruction mission right then and there.

Instead he says, "Okay. Call Jackson make sure he doesn't get bitten. I think the effects of the bite are worse for werewolves. You had anything but radio silence from Boyd and Erica?"

He hears Isaac's palm slapping against skin suddenly and suspects that Scott is attempting to get freaky with him and that's got to be the most disturbing thing to ever happen in his lifetime.

"Not since they left," he says slowly, cautiously. Stiles doesn't comment further on that.

"Okay, well I'm going back to see Dea-ahh." He lets out an odd sound when Derek abruptly has had enough with not doing anything and finds an alternative to keeping his hands to himself, grinding down onto Stiles poorly concealed erection.

He covers a hand over his mouth to stifle his groan, struggling to get away from the very good sensation of horny alpha hovering all over him. Oh Jesus.

"Stiles?" Isaac echoes sounding odd and Stiles just knows he's suffering similar problems.

"Deaton," he gasps out. "I'm going to see Deaton now to see if he found anything."

"Okay," Isaac agrees and then he sounds almost as embarrassed as Stiles is. "I'll um, keep Scott busy."

Stiles does not want to know what that entails so he hangs up with a barely concealed moan throwing his cell phone onto the floor and trying to still Derek's swivelling hips. He's hard, achingly so and his efforts are a little bit weak when he lets his neck fall back and thrusts back into the friction of Derek's body. A body that happens to be enjoying the situation as much as he is.

Judging by the feeling of Derek's erection pressing against his thigh.

Oh God and this is just so wrong. That he's been nursing a stiffy the entire afternoon because of Derek and his wandering hands and now he's letting the gooey eyed smitten alpha take care of it in his bedroom on a damn computer chair where his dad could walk in and have a heart attack any minute.

He groans again when Derek leans forward to mouth at his neck, fingers pressing deeply into Derek's hipbones, bruising even.

"Stiles," Derek gasps out in that same weird voice that Scott's using, the dreamy lovestruck voice and suddenly Stiles comes back into the situation. Because this isn't real Derek attempting the proverbial bump and grind in his lap and he should really stop enjoying this so much.

He pushes Derek off finally, swearing to himself as he scrambles away covering the area of his pants which happened to very much enjoy what Derek had been doing with his hips several seconds ago.

"Okay," he breathes out, feeling the heat in his face and the mortification that Derek's just as hard and still giving him goo goo eyes. Jesus. "I'm going to go take care of this, and you're going to sit there and not do anything like that ever again. Got it?"

Derek just smiles up at him sunnily from his deposited position on the floor. "You're so pretty," is his reply and Stiles wants to punch him.

But instead he hurries into the bathroom dodging Derek's grabby hands as they reach out for him eagerly.

He locks the door and barely gets his dick out of his pants before he's coming, ruining his shirt as he gasps out desperate little chokes of air.

And Derek whines because he can smell it as Stiles leans back against the door, slamming his head against it a couple times for good measure because he is never ever going to live this down.

He's buying a plane ticket out of the country as soon as he squishes that rainbow LGBT vampire bug into the dirt and then continues to jump on its remains until it's a rainbow pancake.

Because he holds grudges and that damn insect of lurve is currently at the top of his list right behind his stupid uncontrollable hormones that think it's perfectly okay to dry hump an alpha.

* * *

Deaton's looking pretty grim by the time they arrive back at the clinic, Derek still attached to him like their limbs have been transformed into one gigantic lovebitten and ridiculously besotted entity.

"It's meant to wear off," Stiles offers. "In about twenty four hours but I don't think it's the same for werewolves."

Deaton nods. "You're right for werewolves, I'm afraid it's much more permanent."

Stiles kind of groans but that's because Derek's trying to get under his shirt again. "It bit Scott too," he says. "God we're so screwed right now."

"If you can catch it. I think I can devise an antidote."

Stiles tries to push Derek away again but its useless and clearly a waste of his time. "You mean I can't just squash it with extreme prejudice?"

Deaton actually smiles, despite the situation. "Not unless you want a lovestruck alpha attached to you for the rest of your life."

Stiles blinks and then swears. "How the hell do we catch this damn bug then?"

Deaton's plan it turns out is to try to mimic the scent of a female lovebug. But putting together a cocktail of fake lovebug pheromones is going to take some time so Stiles goes back home with Derek in tow.

Only his dad is still not home by now. Stiles immediately calls the Station ignoring Derek wrapping his hands around his waist and burying his face into his neck although its pretty impossible to ignore the alpha working a thigh between his legs.

He groans because this is too much sexual frustration for his liking and he's kind of reaching his limit for resisting very tempting sexually expressive alpha's.

And Derek is sort of seriously hot and very, very willing and Stiles is sort of lacking in the sexual adventures department. It's sort of taking everything he has to push the alpha away and even then his efforts are half assed.

His dad, unlike Scott picks up straight away. "Sheriff Stilinski speaking."

"Dad," he nearly makes a sound of relief when his dad speaks like a normal none love bitten person. "Listen I'm going to tell you something a little weird here but you're going to have to trust me."

"Okay," his dad replies slowly, suspiciously and Stiles knows he's suspecting that he and Scott have made a mess of things again.

"If you see a bug about the size of a fist that's rainbow coloured don't let it bite you."

He expects more questions. But all he gets is silence. Utter silence.

"Dad?"

"Huh," his dad finally replies. "This is a bit of a strange prank Stiles how'd you get it in here so quickly? Scott let it into the Station?"

Stiles feels his stomach drop and panics. "Dad I'm not messing around here. Don't let it bite you it's… uh poisonous."

Derek moves his thigh again in a distracting manner so that Stiles is essentially grinding against it. He curses again when he feels himself start to react. Oh God why couldn't Derek do that when he wasn't bitten by rainbow bugs?

But his dad doesn't reply.

"Dad?" he cries struggling to get free of the frisky alpha.

Nothing but radio silence. And God he hopes he doesn't arrive there in time to see his dad kissing a pot plant or another deputy or something. Though kissing the pot plant would probably be the least creepy.

* * *

It turns out to be much worse. He ignores the rest of the bedlam in the Station; two female deputies smacking lips and another male cop nuzzling a cardboard cut out of Obama that's been there since elections a little eagerly for his taste.

Derek follows him silently hands brushing sneakily over his ass as he strides towards his dad's office and he groans at the unfairness of it all, ripping his hands away.

He walks into the room swinging open the door and nearly breaks his dad's nose because he's standing behind it looking into the mirror he hangs behind the door to check he looks presentable before the Sheriff speaks to press or the mayor.

Stiles winces at the widened dreamy gaze on his father's face. Although at least it's better than trying to hump a cardboard cut out of the president. But still, little weird that his father's fallen in love with himself. He should probably talk to someone about that.

"Dad?" he asks tentatively and his father doesn't look away from his own reflection smiling prettily and even pouting his lips a little.

"Sheriff," he purrs out sweetly before leaning forward to _kiss _the mirror. Dear God.

Stiles actually face palms.

* * *

By the time he convinces his dad to come home with him- only after removing the mirror from the back of the door to take with them with Derek's help- not to mention another bout of uncomfortable groping in front of his father which he doesn't notice, things are not looking good.

He sits his dad in his bedroom and then feeling extremely uncomfortable because his dad has resumed trying to make out with the mirror again, he shuts the door figuring his dad should be safe until the lovebite wears off.

Only he'll never be able to handle seeing his dad look into a mirror again. Ever.

The lovebug had mysteriously vanished by the time they convinced every body in the Station to hand over their firearms. It hadn't been remotely difficult but there had been a lot of awkward interruptions of fondling and makeout sessions while he reached for their holsters.

Because lovebitten cops could not be trusted. Especially when they were indecently feeling up the president of the United States.

God it was funny but just so very wrong.

Stiles was getting second-hand embarrassment just from looking at them all. He calls Lydia after he's sure his dad is fine and wrestles Derek away from him on the couch feeling hot and bothered from the sneak groping attack.

The alpha is remarkably determined to hump him at odd intervals.

"Hey Lydia," he says when she picks up.

"Jackson," she purrs and Stiles lets out a sound of frustration.

"Oh my God is everyone losing their mind today?" he cries out.

"A little to the left," is her reply and then she lets out a satisfied sound and he starts to feel increasingly uncomfortable.

"Um Lydia?" he asks. "What are you-"

"Jackson's giving me a foot rub," she offers sweetly and Stiles eyebrows draw together in confusion. "And we're watching The Notebook."

Then he realises. "It bit him didn't it?" he asks.

"Yep," she agrees cheerfully. "Got me too but it mustn't have worked I guess. What was it anyway?"

Stiles has only one guess as to why it hadn't. "Lovebug," he clarifies. "How long ago did it happen? Did you try and capture it?"

"Um no," she says. "It bit me and then Jackson started acting like the best boyfriend ever."

"Lydia," Stiles hears Jackson offer as if in agreement. He tries not to roll his eyes.

"Don't worry we're working on catching it. And everyone will be back to normal again."

And then Lydia laughs. "Um Stiles did you not hear me? Jackson is giving me a foot rub whilst watching The Notebook and hasn't mentioned lacrosse once. In fact he just keeps saying my name. Seems like he's already been cured to me."

Stiles actually laughs at that one. "If you say so," he replies but then he has to hang up because Derek's straddling him again.

* * *

It's not one of his best nights. He and lovestruck Derek attempt to find the lovebug late into the evening alone because when they'd gone to Scott's house to check on him an Isaac they'd found them both shirtless, Scott pining Isaac down on the bed and furiously sticking his tongue down his throat.

Stiles choked out an awkward sound and Isaac managed to wrench his face away from Scott's ministrations but Scott just continued on his merry way down his neck. Isaac locked eyes with Stiles, red faced and embarrassed.

"Are you going to get him off me or just stare at us?" he demands but Stiles can see the flustered rush of air into his lungs and figures maybe Isaac happens to like Scott's attention a lot. At least a lot more than he should be.

Almost as much as Stiles is trying to resist liking Derek's. He manages to pull Scott away in time for Isaac to roll out from under him and move quickly to Scott's closet to retrieve a shirt that Scott hasn't ripped to pieces.

He quickly yanks it on and turns to face him. "He overpowered me," Isaac explains offhandedly.

And Stiles just grins. "Sure he did."

Isaac has the decency to avert his eyes as his cheeks redden and Stiles cannot believe how much he wants to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Where's Scott's mom?" he asks pushing at Derek when he pulls Stiles into his lap on the bed. He lands with an oof and then immediately squirms to free himself.

"She's still at the hospital," Isaac says helping pull him out of Derek's grip. Stiles flushes and hates the way his heart beat thuds faster in his chest when the alpha moves with him, refusing to let go.

"C'mon let's go find that damn bug," he says clearing his throat awkwardly when Scott tackles into Isaac out of nowhere.

And that's why Scott nor Isaac are present when Stiles walks through the woods with Derek for a rainbow bug search party. He gives up when the light fades completely and he can't see anything except the telltale lights of his jeep winking at them in the distance. He can't see a lot of things.

But he can feel a lot of things. Like say Derek's erection pressed up against his ass. His pulse skyrockets and he makes an uneasy sound limbs going in all directions as he smacks at Derek's hands wrapping around his waist.

"Jesus, you're frisky aren't you?" he gasps. "Is this the lovebite or are you usually this horny?"

Derek only whines "Stiles," into his mouth.

And somehow Derek twists him around so he can seal their mouths together. Stiles' brain sort of short circuits.

Because being dry humped by an infatuated alpha is a lot different to being kissed by one. He can feel Derek everywhere from the heat of his body to the unyielding pressure against his mouth and he's overwhelmed by it.

He lets Derek in with a gasp and suddenly the alpha's tongue is in his mouth and this is so breaking way too many rules here. It so very wrong. Derek's going to kill him if he ever gets back to normal.

Because Stiles is not fighting very hard here and it's pretty obvious that he's sort of accidentally letting Derek grope him.

Oops. Well could you blame a guy? He was trying. He'd been trying ever since that stupid bug decided to snack on Derek's neck.

It's not his fault that the alpha is irresistible. And that he's taken a sudden interest in dry humping him in social situations. He can't really help it if he likes it.

Only that's a little bit of an awkward thing to be thinking when lights are shining on his face and he's finally wrenching his mouth away from Derek's breathing heavily as Allison, her dad and the rest of the hunters are bearing down on them.

Allison's face goes from shocked to embarrassed to hard ass hunter in a few seconds. Mr Argent just raises an eyebrow at the compromising position he's in with the alpha. Stiles sort of opens his mouth to explain but apparently they beat him to it.

"Lovebug," Mr Argent summarises for them all as if that could be the only reason Derek is trying to jump Stiles' bones in the middle of the woods.

He tries not to be offended by that. "Lovebug," he agrees hearing the frustration in his own voice. "Is there anything on it in the bestiary?"

Mr Argent sort of cocks his crossbow against his shoulder which thankfully means he's not going to shoot them for exchanging saliva though his dad just might when he stops trying to get freaky with his own reflection.

Or when Derek gets cured and realises what happened.

"They only bite when they're about to start breeding. The bite leaves whoever first comes into contact with the infected person as the object of infatuation until the symptoms wear off. But once they start breeding-"

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles agrees jerking an elbow into Derek's gut as a reminder to stop grinding against him. He swallows heavily. "Lovebug swarm. I've seen pictures. Not pretty. Is there a cure for werewolves?"

Allison glances between her father and Derek and her eyes are hungry like maybe she'd want to kill lovestruck Derek if she had the chance and Stiles is feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

"I think the symptoms are stronger," Mr Argent says looking as Derek starts humping his leg. His eyes narrow. "Obviously."

"Don't kill it if you see it," Stiles finally replies after extracting himself from the horny wolf's clutches. "We need it to get them all back to normal."

"What if we don't want them back to normal?" Allison demands, eyes hard as she watches Derek. Stiles winces because he is not being dry humped by an overbearing alpha for the rest of his life no matter how attractive he is.

"You'd rather all the werewolves like this?" he shoots back. "Scott like this?"

Her eyes widen briefly. "Scott?"

"Yeah it bit him too," he says shoving Derek back again as he tries to sort of mount him in front of the hunters. Oh God this could not get more humiliating right now.

And of course it does.

"Who?" she asks looking a little vulnerable as the question leaves her lips. Stiles clears his throat and wonders if Scott's going to kill him for this.

"Isaac," he says. "He saw Isaac first."

And then its gets ten times more uncomfortable because now Allison knows that her ex boyfriend is probably trying to mount Isaac Lahey like Derek is trying to mount Stiles and this has got to be the most awkward thing on the planet.

And that's of course when Derek shoves his hand down Stiles' trousers _again._

* * *

When he gets back home, his face is red and he's still breathing heavily. But Derek's still giving him that dreamy- cheesy beyond belief- loved up grin despite the fact that he's got blood running down his face.

Stiles didn't really mean to break his nose. His elbow had had other ideas though luckily the werewolf healing helped solve that problem.

But that didn't stop the hunters from laughing.

Because apparently laughing over Stiles' getting fondled by the big, bad alpha werewolf was a real bonding experience.

So Stiles was angry and extremely sexually frustrated when he finally arrived home. He was too chicken to check on his dad, terrified of what he might see because he's experienced enough humiliation at the hands of this lovebug for one day and he does not want to add traumatising father imagery to the list.

He's pretty sure half the towns been bitten by now and he doesn't want to know what other kind of odd pairings have surfaced because of it. Instead he just cooks dinner for the three of them.

Only when it's ready to eat he encounters a problem.

Derek won't eat anything that's been placed in front of him. He just sort of smiles vaguely at Stiles without looking away from his face and ignores the fact that he hasn't eaten anything all day or probably drank anything either.

So that means his dad is going to be too busy looking at himself in the mirror to eat anything either. Stiles sighs and figures well he tried it's not his fault if the alpha dies of dehydration or starvation so he takes his own plate and starts eating.

And then suddenly Derek's paying very close attention to the food he's cooked probably for the simple fact that it's disappearing into his mouth. Stiles nearly chokes and licks his lips shocked when Derek's eyes grow hungry and the alpha shudders.

He's glad for a minute that there's a table separating them because Derek looks like he's about to blow a fuse or something or lunge across the table.

It's not like he's not expecting it either. He sighs and watches Derek's face still having no clue how to react to the smitten expression there or the adoring look in his eyes. It's so beyond normal that Stiles has to keep looking at him as if to convince himself that Derek is actually looking at him like that.

God this is going to be so awkward when Derek comes out of his lovebitten haze. Stiles doesn't think he'll be able to forget that look or that fact that they seriously dry humped each other.

Or that he enjoyed it. Derek is going to kill him.

And he keeps eating watching Derek and praying silently that memory loss is another side effect of the lovebite.

* * *

He wakes up at least twelve times during the night and nearly all of those times are because Derek decides to start an impromptu groping or grinding or humping session.

It's got to be the most mortifying thing on the planet because nearly every time Stiles responds before he realises what he's doing and jerks away from Derek's grip.

And everything is so much harder because the alpha would settle for nothing less than spooning and unfortunately Stiles becomes very, very aware that insomnia is yet another effect of the lovebite.

Sadly it makes sense. Derek can't eat, can't sleep, can't even think anymore. He's the perfect example of why lovebites are so damn tricky. Because Stiles is pretty certain Derek believes he's completely in love with him.

And he still doesn't want to know what his dad is doing to that mirror a couple doors down the hallway.

Stiles gives up attempting to sleep and drives over to the clinic early the next morning, Derek in tow. The alpha's still exactly the same as the night before and when Stiles finally works up the courage to check so was his father, staring deeply into his own reflection not even noticing his presence.

He tries to ignore the disappointment that his dad isn't back to normal yet but he was bitten late in the afternoon. His twenty four hours of mirror lovin' aren't up yet.

When he drives through the town he sees a lot of thing he will never think about ever again and he's still unable to look Derek directly in the eye because of it until they pull to a stop in front of the clinic.

Deaton's already open so they walk straight in Derek surprisingly only reaching for his hand as they walk through the doors.

Stiles doesn't really have the heart to pull away so he lets the warmth of Derek's fingers squeeze his own gently and tries not to let his heart pump out of control.

When they walk inside Isaac and Scott are already there and Isaac is frowning as he tries to keep Scott's hands above the waist. Stiles laughs but then Isaac looks pointedly at their hands and Stiles quickly yanks his hand free with an uncomfortable sound.

He notices the dark shadows under Isaacs eyes and figures he's had just as much of a crappy night as he has.

"He didn't sleep either?" he guesses.

Isaac sighs and slaps Scott's questing hands away. "No."

Stiles shrugs and doesn't even react when Derek wraps his arms around his hips settling against his back. "It makes sense," he says. "I think their in the infatuation stage where they can't think of anything but…"

He trails off uncomfortably because there is no way he's going to finish that sentence.

"But us," Isaac finishes stretching the words out hesitantly and Stiles groans pulling away from Derek to collapse into one of the reception chairs.

"Do you think they'll all remember?" he asks.

Isaac freezes as if the idea had never occurred to him and turns to him slowly. "I hope not."

He nudges Scott away with his foot as Deaton enters the room.

He hasn't stopped working all night and he looks bone tired. "I've finished," he announces. "I've created a synthetic pheromone to mimic the female lovebug. Once this becomes airborne the lovebug should appear within the hour."

He pulls out a small vial from within his coat and gives it to Stiles. He frowns as he takes it. "Where should we release it?"

Deaton yawns. "Nowhere near other people. Somewhere it would be safe to capture it."

"I think I know where. You guys should work on bringing all the infected werewolves back to the clinic so we can fix them. Lydia won't be happy."

"I'll figure something out," Isaac promises getting distracted by Scott again.

Stiles just wants to squash this crush bug that churns out adoration like a goddamn rainbow love machine already.

And apparently also smells like marshmallows.

* * *

Deaton supplies him with a glass container that should hold the lovebug from doing anymore damage and Stiles drives him and Derek out to the abandoned factories on the edge of Beacon Hills. He parks his car well away from the lovebug splash zone and pours the vial of clear liquid onto a nearby tire.

Then he gets his container and waits.

It's kind of a shitty plan. He's pretty sure this lovebug is wily and more trouble than its worth. He doesn't think it's going to be as simple as sticking a bug into a jar and rattling it a bit for good measure.

He thinks that Derek's going to distract him, or that somehow he's going to screw this up. And that is the only reason why he procures handcuffs from the back of his jeep and cuffs Derek to it. But he didn't move entirely out of his reach.

And even then Derek still won't give up on sticking his hand down his pants. Stiles was so focused at one point that Derek actually got away with a nice- very nice if the way Stiles let out a shocked moan- handful inspection of his lower regions.

He'd had to encourage Derek to release his already hardened erection, wrestling with the alpha's wandering hands so that he almost didn't notice when the lovebug finally showed its evil, spreading love rainbow body.

It fluttered breezily into the back lot of the factory before settling onto the tire and just sitting there. Ripe for the squashing- _picking._

Stiles sighs again and gets Derek to release him so he can do some predatory sneaking up and stalking of a lovebug. He doesn't really know what the rules are here but he ignores the soft whine that escapes Derek's throat upon their separation and tries to will away the tightness in his pants.

He's got the container out and ready and the lovebug just kind of sits there invitingly as if it's waiting for him. He slams the container down over it when he's close enough with a shout of triumph slipping the lid carefully underneath it so that it's sealed inside.

The lovebug doesn't seem remotely ruffled by this and doesn't move. He lets out a sigh of a relief and there's a sudden groaning sound as Derek breaks free of the handcuffs and hurries over to plaster himself against Stiles' back again.

He groans softly when Derek cups him through his pants because his hands are full with the now trapped lovebug and Derek's hands are apparently full with something else.

He struggles to focus when Derek is assisting in helping him rub one out. Stiles ignores the undignified sounds he makes before shuffling them both towards the jeep.

He places the bug carefully onto the floor and then uses his hands to get away but not before Derek manages to kiss him again.

He ignores the reluctance in him when he pushes away and clears his throat so he can breathe again before climbing into the driver's seat.

Derek follows just as eagerly. But that's probably more do to with his eagerness to continue feeling him up.

Not that Stiles is really complaining all that much.

They get the lovebug back to Deaton and by then somehow Isaac has managed to lure both Jackson and Lydia into the clinic as well as keeping Scott there. Not that it's that hard when Scott is giving him his puppy dog eyes.

Stiles feels both relieved and disappointed as he gives Deaton the lovebug. "Here you go," he says proudly. "I don't think it'll be bugging us anymore."

Isaac immediately rolls his eyes and Deaton gives him a bemused smile. Lydia only looks annoyed.

"I can't believe you dragged me away from The Notebook for ridiculous insect puns," she says as Jackson cuddles her.

Stiles can tell she's pissed about fixing Jackson when he's already cured. He can see her point. This lovey dovey Jackson is a lot less annoying. "Oh c'mon that was good. You may consider it the pest de resistance of today."

He only gets blanks looks. And Lydia rolls her eyes. "Seriously? That was buzz worthy. Heh okay I'm done."

"You better be," Isaac mutters.

Stiles only grins at him. And Derek tries another groping session. Again.

Deaton inspects the lovebug and encourages it to bite into the plastic wrap covering a jar and the venom from its bite slides slowly down the side to pool into the bottom of the glass.

"_Now _can I squash it?" he asks from his firmly trapped position on Derek's lap. He's been trying for several minutes now to break free but the alpha is refusing to let him go. Isaac is suffering a similar fate.

In the meantime, Lydia's convinced Jackson to give her another foot rub because clearly it's going to be her last. She shoots Stiles a dirty look as if that's his fault.

"I saw Danny making out with a girl," Stiles offers suddenly and Lydia laughs in surprise. And then suddenly they're all exchanging horror stories.

"I saw Mr Harris _all over _Peter," she says conversationally. "He did not look pleased."

Stiles had to laugh at the satisfactory glint in her eyes and Isaac smirks. It was funny but he'd never even given creepy Peter a thought. It was too bad he hadn't been the one bitten. Stiles would have left him to the lovebite and waved him on his way.

"Did you see Greenberg and Coach Finstock?" Isaac asks and Stiles shudders while Lydia claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

And that's when Allison enters the room. She's dressed in her battle gear but thankfully unarmed though her eyes do fall on Derek longer than necessary.

"I'm sorry," she says leaning down to hug Lydia in greeting. "I wanted to see Scott for myself."

Isaac looks flustered and tries to get Scott to release him harder than ever but he won't let go. Stiles suddenly becomes very interested in his feet because he can feel the tension in the air.

And suddenly everything is just that more awkward. "Hi Scott," she whispers and Stiles looks up curious to see if her voice might bring a reaction out of him. Scott frowns briefly, dreamy expression replaced by a puzzled look but doesn't turn to her. He doesn't even notice she's in the room.

Isaac fumbles out an awkward apology. And Allison slides into the empty chair on the other side of Lydia who's still enjoying the benefits of the lovebug from Jackson's attentive hands.

"I saw a guy getting a little too friendly with his dog," Allison says finally.

The tension dissipates for a moment and everybody laughs. And then they all settle down to wait.

* * *

It takes several hours until Deaton is certain he's made a proper antidote for the werewolves and by then Jackson's moved on from foot massage, to back massage and finally stopped at cuddling.

Isaac has been fighting harder than ever to keep Scott away from him now that Allison's there to witness it but she's not really paying attention eyes drifting ever so often from the magazine she grabbed off the coffee table to read to rest on Derek.

Who of course has resumed his efforts to get into Stiles' pants.

"Finished," Deaton announces when he reenters the room. "Who wants to go first?"

"Scott," Isaac gasps half wines when Scott tries something very much not PG rated in front of them all. Stiles winces. "Scott wants to go first."

Nobody else protests and Deaton smiles and leads them both away. Derek resumes kissing along Stiles' throat and seeing as this is about to end anyway Stiles stops fighting and lets him do what he wants.

Even if what he wants is making him very excited.

They re-emerge several minutes later both of them extremely red in the face, Scott more than Isaac and that's about when it becomes pretty clear that yes, apparently they do remember everything that happened.

Derek is so going to kill him.

Scott spots Allison who smiles hesitantly at him and with an uncomfortable nod in Isaac's direction he and she go outside to talk.

Isaac retakes his seat without a word. Still red in the face and Stiles has no idea what to say. So he doesn't say anything.

Deaton reappears. "Next?" he asks politely.

Stiles freezes as Derek's ministrations continue on his neck. He glances at Lydia.

"Oh no," she says. "I'm not giving this up just yet."

Stiles climbs wearily to his feet, trying to put some space between them and ignoring the pounding in his chest because Derek's going to know everything. Including the dry humping. The mutual dry humping.

Oh God he's going to tear Stiles' dick off for even responding to him. But seriously the alpha was not innocent here.

It takes two to dry hump.

Deaton retrieves a clean needle and sets about getting ready to inject Derek with the anitlove potion juice.

He gets Stiles to expose Derek's arm because the alpha's totally unresponsive otherwise and he locates the vein.

He's already leaning toward him, needle ready when Stiles stops him.

"Wait," he says and Deaton stops immediately. "Is there any way he won't remember this?" he asks. "I really don't feel like dying yet."

Deaton shakes his head but he's still smiling. "I'm afraid not."

He sighs, resigns himself to a short existence and nods still swatting away Derek's other hand which has an iron grip on his hip.

Derek hisses in between his teeth when the antidote is flushed into his system. The dreamy look slowly drains from his face along with all of the colour. He turns pale, his eyes flash red and then suddenly Derek is back.

Stiles doesn't even get to sigh in relief before Derek is wrenching his hand away from its death grip on Stiles' hip as if the touch burned him.

"Derek," Deaton begins gently, ignoring when he flinches. "How are you feeling?"

The alpha doesn't speak for a moment and it seems as if the shock has rendered him completely speechless. Stiles doesn't deny how entertaining it is to see the look on his face but then Derek's gaze is sliding towards him and Stiles is so dead. Oh shit.

"I-," he looks dazed, confused as if he can't believe that this is happening. Stiles takes a few step back because now Derek will let him do it without sticking his hand down his pants. He looks at Stiles again, eyes wide. _"You-" _he says.

And Stiles is even more certain that the lovebug broke Derek.

But then Derek is wrenching the needle out of his arm and jumping to his feet, storming out of the clinic without another word but Stiles can see that the back of his neck has a red flush to it as if maybe he might be horrifyingly embarrassed.

Stiles sinks against the chair in relief because Derek didn't kill him.

Yet.

And then his cell phone rings interrupting his impending survival victory dance. He answers it distractedly. "Hmm?"

"Stiles," comes his dad's very normal voice through the speaker and he knows that the lovebite has finally worn off. "Why did I wake up hugging a mirror?"

* * *

He doesn't see Derek for several weeks. But lovebug crisis has been averted. Though there are still some strange looks exchanged between people in the days afterwards as if they're on the edge of remembering what happened but don't.

Or maybe they just convince themselves it didn't happen.

Either way his dad now looks at mirrors with undisguised suspicion. Stiles doesn't feel the need to explain why.

And the people who didn't get bitten but were the victims of the lovebitten- like Stiles was- don't say a word. Although Finstock freely gives Greenberg detention for no reason now whenever the kid so much as looks in his direction.

Stiles just sits back and enjoys the afterglow of awkwardness and humiliation.

Scott is totally embarrassed by what happened between him and Isaac but they manage to patch things up only flinching when Stiles mentions bugs or ripping clothes off every now and again.

Which he does mention. Often.

Mainly because he likes seeing their expressions.

Jackson was super pissed that Lydia took such advantage of him but seems to forgive her after several days of make up sex. Or at least that's what Stiles assumes.

He doesn't really want to know.

He still hasn't seen Derek. And when Scott says he still can't look anyone in the eye yet Stiles figures he's busy trying to forget everything.

Particularly the dry humping.

And the making out. And the fact that Derek got to third base with him because all of that hand into pants effort had paid off eventually.

Still, Derek is the first to even get that far with him and Stiles hates to admit it's all because of a stupid lovebug which Deaton did not kill but instead keeps in his clinic for unknown purposes.

Stiles is pretty sure he doesn't like the sound of that.

It's nearly two weeks after the towns been drenched in rainbows that Derek actually makes an appearance, sliding through his window silently so that when he taps Stiles on the shoulder he jumps a mile.

"Jesus," he barely manages to keep his voice low. He sees Derek's expression and immediately backs away.

"C'mon you can't blame me because you got bitten by a lovebug which seriously how do they even exist? That's the most ridiculous thing ever. And okay I know you know that you felt me up and I may have sort of let you. And sure we were dry humping at one point but it's not my fault! Oh God don't kill me."

Derek blinks at him and his expression is hard and unreadable, like usual. Stiles couldn't describe how much of a relief it was to not get the goo goo eyes anymore.

Okay so maybe he liked the goo goo eyes _a little._

"Stiles," he growls out. "I know you liked it."

And if that wasn't the most horrific thing for Derek to say Stiles was going to go and let that bug lay eggs in his brain without protest.

"I'm a teenager," he replies evasively. "I like anything that touches my funky business."

Derek takes a step closer. "But you really liked… when I did it."

Stiles wants a hole to open up beneath him so he can crawl into it and die.

"Well you said I was pretty," he argues back satisfied when Derek freezes.

And then he just looks really embarrassed and uncomfortable and Stiles is loving every minute of it. He grins at him.

"You are," Derek says and the grin slides off his face. "Pretty."

But he grunts it out like admitting it is almost a difficult as tearing off a limb. Stiles just sort of stands there for a second contemplating the way Derek can't really look him in the eye. "If you've been bitten by a loveturtle or something I swear to God-"

Derek hesitates briefly for a moment gauging Stiles reaction or waiting for him to stop him and when nothing happens he pushes forward burying his hands into the folds of his shirt, pressing their lips together.

And Stiles likes this much, much better. Because this is real Derek not dreamy lovebitten Derek sticking his tongue down his throat and he smiles against his lips and tangles his fingers into Derek's hair.

The pull apart a moment later already stumbling towards his bed. "Does this mean when we dry hump now I don't have to worry about you ripping my balls off?" he asks groaning when Derek's stubble slides against the skin of his neck.

The alpha growls into his throat already placing his own lovebites against Stiles' neck and he has to admit he prefers it this way.

"Sure," Derek agrees, quickly resuming his attentions on his neck.

And this is totally and completely way better than being bitten by a LGBT supportive rainbow bug.

Just saying.


End file.
